Lost and Found

Low river at the swimming area.

Sam and I, along with Sam’s metal detector, made an early morning return visit to the town’s swimming area. The occasion was me having dropped my glasses somewhere on our walk the evening before.

Fortunately, they weren’t my reading glasses (such as the ones I’m wearing right now). These were a pair of bifocals - which I only use for things like driving (no big deal. I can do ok without them - if pressed) or when my reading glasses aren’t available (because I had been driving).

Since I'm already wearing the bifocals when we go on most of our not-quite-local walks (having driven to where we're walking), I continue to use them when I'm taking, or trying to take, pictures - to see if the camera is anywhere near level (within ten degrees), if my intended subject is remotely within range of my viewfinder, and if the focus is anywhere near a point where said subject would possibly be discernible.

I have a spare pair of these bifocals but it’s nice to have a backup pair - for just this type of problem.

Last night, I realized I lost them when we were walking somewhere between the car and the path that leads through the woods. Finding them anywhere along there would be challenging, but not impossible. If I thought I dropped them along the wooded path, forget it. Everything along there is too overgrown at this point - and anyway, I noticed them missing before then.

The path through the woods.

Even still, Sam and I continued on, until we eventually finished our walk. When we got back to the car, we looked in the car, around the car, and around the parking area, but no luck.

It was kind of getting to the point where I was second guessing whether or not I had brought them. Maybe I had left them at home.

But it sure seemed like I had worn them to get here. I kind of remembered taking them off when we pulled into the parking lot, when I went to put my mask on. Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I had left them at home. Or maybe not.

With no sign of them, we drove home. When we went in the house, I knew right away they were gone.

There, on the stove, were my reading glasses - which is where I leave them before switching to my bifocals when heading out the door. This meant the bifocals were either still in my car, somewhere on the tiny patch of grass by where we parked, on the footbridge, or (ugh) somewhere in the field on the other side of the river.

The field across the footbridge.

Since we were now home - with no intention of heading back out - Sam (with his eagle-eyes) looked one last time around the car for me. No luck. It was pretty safe that the bifocals were gone for good - so, reluctantly, I went online and ordered another pair.

This morning I figured, just for the heck of it, maybe we should head over to the swimming area with Sam’s metal detector and, as futile as it probably was, try and see if we could find the glasses. I wouldn’t bother searching the entire field, but if the glasses were anywhere from the patch of grass by where we parked, on over to the very beginnings of the field, we might stand a chance of finding them. Beyond that, forget it.

So head over, we did.

When we got there, we parked where we parked last night and I got out of the car and Sam and his metal detector got out of the car, and I explained to Sam all of what I just explained to you. By the time I got done explaining, I looked over at the patch of grass by where we parked - and there were my bifocals, sitting there in the grass, thankfully untouched.

Since neither Sam nor I (well, mostly Sam) are ones to sacrifice a chance to wander around aimlessly with a metal detector, Sam and I (well, actually just Sam) did just that - unfortunately to no avail.

Despite the low waters (with the dam not yet being closed) there was no treasure to be found. This was due in part to the fact that no one has been around to be in a position to be dropping change. And also, in part, because I didn’t think to bring any soon-to-be-lost change with me.

But who knows? I’m sure there’ll be plenty more opportunities to lose my glasses again in the future - and along with them, maybe even lose a little bit of change.